


Dark Chocolate

by Venrajade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chocolate, First Kiss, Fluff, Food, M/M, No bad feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venrajade/pseuds/Venrajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale loves dark chocolate, which is weird because Derek doesn't seem to enjoy ANYTHING.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Chocolate

Derek Hale loves dark chocolate.

            The first time Stiles notices this, he's almost as shocked as the time that he found out that Leprechauns aren't nearly as scary as they seem, and are instead more like really shitty used car salesmen; their manipulations only work if you're incredibly naïve. The reason Stiles is so shocked, is because at the time he firmly held the belief that _Derek Hale didn't enjoy anything_. But the reality was Stiles barely knew Derek, despite their increasingly reliant life-saving exchanges. So when their very hesitant and very distrustful pack went out for dinner, instead of the customary mints handed out after paying the bill, they were given an assortment of individually wrapped chocolates because Derek had taken them somewhere _fancy._ Or at least as fancy as one could get while still residing within the boundaries of Beacon Hills and that fit the surprisingly picky dietary requirements of the pack.

            Stiles doesn't notice at first, when he piles into the Camaro because his Jeep is still in the shop (amazingly enough, just for a routine check up instead of _another_ supernatural being tearing apart his engine). It isn't until they're about a quarter of the way back to Stiles' house, with Isaac in the back seat, that Stiles notices that Derek's jaw isn't clenched, but rather it's… undulating. His mouth is firmly closed, his eyes on the road, no noise except for Isaac's worries about a fairly easy project that's due in English the next week that Stiles' absently agrees to help him with if he's having too much trouble. All the while out of the corner of his eye Stiles' is watching Derek's mouth and the way it sinfully works whatever object is in it. Derek obviously isn't talking, or even wanting to talk, but something is clearly preoccupying his tongue and Stiles is filled with an intense sense of wonder and near-jealousy at what could possibly make Derek lick his lips like that after whatever had taken residence in his stupidly seductive mouth had dissolved.

            'This is ridiculous,' Stiles thought to himself; his cheeks were red and hot against the contrast of the cool window that he firmly pressed his face against in an attempt for some kind of relief. The entire cab of the car must have smelled overwhelmingly of his arousal, but if either Isaac or Derek noticed, they didn't say anything.

'Polite of them,' Stiles' horribly embarrassed internal monologue supplied.

            It was killing him, not knowing what Derek had eaten, but then his (entirely innapropriate prayers) were answered when Derek dug into the console of the Camaro were the after-dinner chocolates were stored. When he continued to dig through them, all the while trying to keep his eyes looking foreward, Stiles finally spoke up after nearly two minutes of rummaging.

"What are you looking for?" Derek's eyes snapped to him if only for a brief moment before returning to the front.

"…Chocolate."  
"Dude, there are like a million chocolates in there. Frankly, there's an overkill of chocolates, like maybe the hostess was trying to butter you up to make sure we'd come back with our sweet, sweet tip money." Or for Derek to come back with his gang of ridiculously hot not-model friends (excluding Stiles). Not that Derek didn't tip handsomely, but Stiles couldn't help but notice the way both the waitresses and the hostess were eyeing most of the pack; especially Derek, Scott, Jackson, Boyd, and Lydia. Because of this Stiles thought maybe the excessive amount chocolates they had been imbibed with had less to do with how much business they could bring to the restaurant, and more to do with how much eye-candy they brought to the over-worked service employees. Whatever, Stiles wasn't bitter except for the fact that Derek had apparently taken one of their offerings into his mouth and cherished it and was currently searching for more.

Wait, that sounded weird sounding, even to Stiles' own internal monologue.

"No," Derek said in his 'I am so sick of your sass, Stiles' voice. "I just want the one in the dark blue wrapper, I can't find it."

            Stile blinked, shocked at the fact that Derek was sharing the fact that he had a preference to something mundane as _chocolate._ Normally, the only preference Derek shared with anybody was how he preferred his betas and his humans to listen to whatever command he was giving, or the way he likes to tear out rival alpha's throats. Maybe Stiles shouldn't be so surprised, after all, the pack HAD gotten closer and become a pack, Scott's "pack" included after the Alphas had left. Once Boyd and Erica had come back, frightened and unsure of their safety, Derek had _promised_ to bring in some of the softer aspects of pack life. The parts that made it more like family, instead of the survival technique that they had all been using it as before. This dinner was their first real outing, and Stiles had thought it had gone pretty well, but maybe not well enough to expect his brooding Alpha to admit his chocolate preference. That would be silly.

"Oh, um, here let me look." Isaac looked like he was nearly asleep in the back seat while Stiles took out his phone to illuminate their stash of chocolates in order to determine which one exactly was dark blue. Finally picking one up, Stiles squinted at the packaging in the poor lighting before determining that the chocolate he had picked up read, '90% pure dark chocolate' and was in fact dark blue.

"Found it," Stiles said, handing over the package. Derek merely hums while tearing apart the plastic with his teeth and taking half of chocolate into his mouth with a single bite before humming again. Stiles watches for a while, eyes transfixed where the dessert disappeared between Derek's lips and noticing how utterly satisfied the werewolf seems with his treat.

"Is it really that good?" Stiles blurts out, trying to comprehend how something so simple could please Derek in a way he hasn't really seen before.

Derek simply arches his eyebrow, "is what so good?"

"Dark chocolate. I mean.. I've tried baking with it before, but I always end up adding a shit load of sugar because it's so bitter." Stiles finishes, cheeks a bit flushed because of course Derek can handle dark chocolate. He's older, his palette is more refined (even though Stiles' is pretty sure Derek eats beans out of a can most nights because he _still doesn't have an oven_. OR a microwave, if he's going to start building a new house on the Hale foundation Stiles thinks he should at least spring for those two essential items; he's a werewolf, not a hobo), Stiles just wants to know _how._ Derek seems to contemplate (or completely ignore, it's hard to tell) Stiles' question for a few minutes, popping in the second half of his chocolate and working it in his mouth again in a way that Stiles should not find so arousing. It's an unfathomable amount of time later when Derek finally answers, Isaac's soft snoring creating most of the noise that Stiles can hear.

"It's really bitter at first, but once you get used to it there's so many more flavours than in white or milk chocolate." Stiles is caught off guard again by Derek's forwardness, maybe now that there was less impending danger he would always be like this, or maybe he and Derek had gotten close enough from saving each others' lives so much? Both were frightening yet exciting possibilities.

"Huh," Stiles answered, not really sure what to say but feeling compelled to say something regardless, even as Derek pulled into his driveway next to his father's cruiser. "Thanks for the ride and dinner, and um, I guess tell Isaac I'll see him at school on Monday?" Derek nodded, and Stiles took that as his cue to climb out of the car and make his way to his front door. If Stiles grinned a little at the fact that the Camaro idled in the driveway until Stiles had safely made his way into the house, who was to know? Except for his father who was staring at him a bit judgmentally from his chair in the living room where he had paused an old western movie on the TV.

"Good dinner, son? No supernatural interruptions?" The Sherriff asked in a way that seemed incredibly casual for someone who was now 'in the know.'

"Nothing happened, Dad. Dinner was good, they gave us chocolates."

\----

     The day after, Stiles bought an entire bar of high quality dark chocolate. He tried eating it the way he ate all chocolate, chewing it a little bit and then letting it melt slightly before swallowing the confectionary completely. It didn't taste nearly as good as Derek made it look. Stiles grew frustrated, trying to eat the entire bar but he could not get past bitterness and the way the chocolate seemed to snap rather than bend into his mouth.

'Derek must have some super sneaky werewolf trick,' Stiles decided, even though his own mother had preferred dark chocolate even though she was completely human (?? this was under debate, Stiles felt that he had to get his magical proclivity from SOMEONE, though Deaton said that often wasn't the case). Finally, on Sunday, Stiles got fed up and after he picked up his Jeep from the mechanic's, he went and bought another chocolate bar before speeding off to the Hale house. Stiles knew no one would be there with Derek, since Sunday tended to be the day that each of the werewolves' parents or foster parents decided to rag on their children's homework or would notice them missing. So as Stiles drove up the unpaved road, he felt equal parts relief and anxiety as Derek stepped onto the porch to greet him (or warn him away, either way Derek heard him coming).

            Grabbing the chocolate and turning off the ignition, Stiles climbs out of his vehicle and towards the Alpha who is now standing with his arms crossed, leather jacket and shoes nowhere to be seen.

"Stiles?" He questions, in the way Stiles can only assume means 'what supernatural bullshit is happening in Beacon Hills now?'

"I don't know how to make this taste good," Stiles huffs when he finally reaches Derek, holding out the chocolate like it's some great puzzle that has stumped him (Stiles _never_ admits defeat, not like this). Derek looks a little confused, a little threatened, and also a little amused? It's a new look for the Alpha, one that Stiles can't quite parse yet, he only knows that on his own face there is the indignant frown of a man who has been bested by _candy_. Derek waits a few long moments, trying to figure out what Stiles wants when all Stiles wants to know is how Derek made it look _so good_. Like he should be dark chocolate's spokeperson or something, because god knows Stiles hopped on board that train and he wasn't even letting himself look directly and Derek eating it.

            Finally, something seems to click for Derek and he reaches for Stiles' hand, prying the offending object out of his now-tight fingers and unwrapping the chocolate first from the cardboard, then from the foil. Derek snaps off a square, just like Stiles' had done the day before, but instead of tossing it in his mouth, he moves impossibly close into Stiles' personal space and positions his mouth to the teenager's ear.

"You have to let it sit on your tongue," Derek speaks smoothly, his voice a bit huskier than usual, or maybe that was just because of the proximity? "As it melts, the flavour releases and you can push it into the top of your mouth with your tongue… but the important thing is to do it slowly, you need to learn how to savour it, Stiles." It may be the most descriptive thing Derek has ever said, but Stiles isn't paying attention to the words. Instead he's shivering at feeling of Derek's mouth so close to his ear, their bodies nearly touching and Stiles can FEEL the heat coming of the Alpha. That is, until Derek takes a half-step back and plops that square of chocolate into his mouth like he's giving Stiles some kind of personal demonstration.  Derek smirks at him, eyes seeming almost alight with mischief as Stiles' jaw remains where it has dropped a little.

"I.. oh.. I?" Stiles sputters, and before he has any conscious thought he's surging foreword, capturing Derek's lips with his own before he freezes completely, realizing what he's done. This doesn't deter Derek, though, who immediately smiles against Stiles' lips and cradles Stiles' head so that he can angle himself perfectly to plunge his tongue into Stiles' opening mouth, which seems to part half from shock, half because that is his mouth's natural state. Stiles feels the bitter chocolate explode onto his taste buds, harkened by Derek's tongue and for the first time in an entire weekend of trying, Stiles understands the appeal of the nearly sugarless dessert. It's bitter, it's creamy, and it's absolutely amazing.

"Do you get it now?" Derek asks, panting slightly against Stiles' cheek where he nuzzles it after they break apart.

"Pretty much the most delicious thing I've had in my life," Stiles supplies, groaning as Derek descends to lick his neck, spreading both the chocolate and his saliva.

After that, it becomes fact; Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale love dark chocolate, and they love chocolate kisses even more.

**Author's Note:**

> So, um, I haven't written fiction since high school? I dunno if this is any good, I'm going to go with my gut feeling that it isn't offensively bad, and since it's not beta'd I'm just going to have to hope against all hope that there aren't egregious errors (I KNOW there's tense errors, there have to be). Either war I hope you enjoyed it, kids.


End file.
